The Basket Of Light Poem by Usha Roopnarain

BY USHA ROOPNARAIN



She walks with a basket on her head
Smiling, but her basket is empty, although she carries the king of thermal energy
Luminating galactic, she does not realise this dispensary of light
O if only she knows, he shines heavenly so bright!
He rises with a celestial might.
Yet nobody gets a fright.

Its early in the morning
Eclipsed in the basket, saffron yellow, spherical, blazing and scorching
Yet she smiles, as she carries her god, in her heart the pain is roaring
poverty is her mourning; she wishes the light could be transforming.
But she walks step by step, hand in hand with her son,
He is unaware of the magma ball captured in her basket, only that the hunger pangs have begun.
Yes, its powerful, giving earth life, dancing, following him but it's no fun!
Can someone capture this image?
We are slowly pacing to our village
Dry and dusty, she shines through, the light no one can plunder or pillage
O piercing, o star, give us strength, I'm walking in the heat, it is no privilege
Nothing can compare to the image, mother caring the sun some may think is sacrilege.
So burn away, dear sun, someone has captured the image










EARLY MORNING I ARISE BY DR USHA ROOPNARAIN
Blossoming through and exposing its glaze
Millions cannot fathom its beauty or rays
Reminding us there's no more yesterdays
Waking up the world to this is only a short phase
Only a God could have created such a display to amaze!

To disintegrate the full moon and emerge from a cocoon
The rough mountains cannot contain the sun rising through the lagoon
Blinding, breath taking, this golden balloon
From the poor to the tycoon
No one is immune,

With a thousand rays, he will go to the west in the afternoon
With colours of the purest 24 carat gold
O how he takes away the cold
Luminous, rich, pure gold, sometimes so bright you need a blind fold.
Gleaming with colour of a French marigold,
The photo tries its magnificence to uphold.
Come and look, this is more than a huge gemstone, a splendid sight to behold!
Only a photograph its beauty could have foretold.